Time Begins
by AsterLea
Summary: During the eleven months Hermione is engaged to Ron, she faces the stresses of acquainting her Muggle sister to the other bridesmaids and the sinking feeling that someone's not there.
1. Telling the Girls

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.  
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**A/N: Title taken from a chapter of _Animal, Vegetable, Miracle_ by Barbara Kingsolver.**

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><p><em>October 22, 2000<em>

_10:00 a.m._

"EEE!" Lavender shrieked, throwing her arms around Hermione's neck.

"Hey, give her a chance to walk in!" Ginny said, prying Lavender away. Ginny led Hermione to a table in the café where Parvati and Luna were sitting, beaming.

"Congratulations, Hermione!" Luna said, more visibly joyful than Hermione had ever seen her stoic friend. "I always knew you two would be married, right from the start."

"Congrats, hun!" Parvati chirped, kissing Hermione on the cheek. "Ginny owled me last night and told me he proposed. Now, details!"

"Wait! First things first. Let's see that ring!" Lavender said.

Hermione held out her left hand. A square diamond sat surrounded by tiny ruby and topaz stones, banded together with white gold. All of the girls ooh'ed and ahh'ed at the ring's brilliance. "It used to be his great-grandmum Weasley's."

"Goblin-made?" Lavender interjected.

"Goblin-made and modernized. It was originally just a diamond ring, but Ron took it to the goblin gem shop in Godric's Hollow and added these stones all around to make it—"

"Gryffindor colors!" Parvati squealed.

Ginny and Lavender were awestruck, but Luna had pulled out her Spectrespecs and was inspecting the ring closely. "It is quite beautiful, but those rubies are false. They're just crystalized Wrackspurt blood. You must polish this ring with cooking oil every night or else your finger will eventually lose its skin and fall off."

An awkward silence fell over the table, but Ginny soon broke it. "Well, it's nice to know my brother did something right for a change. I don't know about the rest of you lot, but I want to hear how he proposed!"

The girls all chimed in with agreement. Hermione blushed. "Well, as most of you know, it happened last night..."

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><p>"'Peel the three outermost layers off your head of Mongol Molting Cabbage.' Done. 'Slice each leaf diagonally with a copper-serrated knife, as this will best release the cabbage's sweet flavor.'" Hermione did not dare to look up from her copy of<em> Ancient Recipes Made Easy<em> that she bought from Flourish & Botts yesterday. She was determined to make Ron an ethnic witch's recipe his mother had never cooked for him before. She ordered him to stay in the bedroom of their flat because she wanted him to be totally surprised. Hermione wasn't sure if Ron would like elderberry and cabbage slaw, but she was more concerned about the outcome than anything. She had now Charmed her copper knife to chop the cabbage diagonally, checking the angle of the blade against that in the book. "As the cabbage is chopping, check the elderberries to make sure...oh, Merlin's beard!"

"Need help?" Ron called from the bedroom.

"No!" she snapped. "Stupid, stupid me forgot to boil the elderberries." She quickly filled a small cauldron with water, set a fire under it, and hurriedly placed it on the stove.

"Hermione, calm down. You know you're not stupid."

"This whole recipe will be a waste if I can't get the skins off!" she said, blindly dumping in the elderberries, scattering a few on the floor. "I wonder how long—" she said, flipping to the index."Basting, Beating, ah, Boiling. Elderberries..._thirty minutes?_ Damn it, this will _never_ get finished!"

"Relax, hun! It'll be fine!"

"No! It won't be fine!" Hermione said, increasing the flame with her wand hand and tasting a bit of the chopped cabbage with her free hand. She winced angrily at its bitterness and spat it into the sink. "That's IT! It's ruined! This whole bloody dinner is ruined!" she shouted, tugging fistfuls of her hair in frustration.

"Hermione, will you please try to relax?" Ron was kneeling in front of the stove, tossing the dropped elderberries into the steaming cauldron.

She smacked him with a dish towel. "Ronald, I told you to stay in our room! This was supposed to be a surprise," she said, voice starting to choke.

"Hermione." He took her hands. "Look at me. I know you thought you'd get the recipe all perfect and we'd have a really nice meal, but sometimes you have to accept that things will go wrong! Believe me, this isn't the way I expected tonight to go, either. I thought we'd be here over candlelight and fancy witches' fare. I thought I'd be telling you how wonderful my meal is and how impressed I am with your cooking."

Hermione sniffed angrily, but Ron continued.

"I thought I'd be here telling you how much I love you and how I still can't believe we knew each other for seven years before having a proper snog. I thought I'd be here telling you how proud I am of you for being so strong during the war, how you're the greatest best friend I could ever ask for, how I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you from this day forward. And most of all, I thought I'd be on one knee, not two."

Ron reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tiny black box. It dissolved, leaving a dazzling ring floating in an aura of golden light.

"And yet, here I am, asking you tonight. Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"

Hermione's response was barely above a whisper, but the affirmation, joy, and love were all there. "Yes."

Ron slipped the ring on her finger and Hermione sunk to her knees, sobbing and embracing him harder than she ever had before. Ron held her close to his chest, burying his head in her soft, thick hair. "Bloody hell, we're engaged!" he said, his voice wavering.

Hermione turned Ron's face to hers and kissed him sweetly. "I know. And I'm so happy!" She ran her thumb across Ron's cheek. "Oh, Ronald, you don't have to cry!"

"Yes I do! I—I—" he scraped something off the back of his trousers. "I sat on some elderberries and now my trousers are ruined!" He wailed dramatically and buried his face in his hands.

Hermione laughed, but that only made the tears come faster, falling hard onto the tile floor. "What will we do about dinner now that you've smashed the ingredients with your big bum?"

Ron looked up and winked. "Already done. I owled for Chinese take-away the moment you banished me to our room."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock and Ron threw the squashed elderberry in it. She could do nothing else but smile.


	2. Telling the Weasleys

_October 22, 2000_

_6:00 p.m._

Hermione recounted the entire story to her in-laws-to-be over dinner that night at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley kept her handkerchief pressed to her mouth, Mr. Weasley nodded and smiled, and George kept making sappy comments across the table to Ron.

"Aww, ickle Wonnie is so sweet!"

"Shh!" Mrs. Weasley hissed, slapping him with her handkerchief. "Go on, Hermione."

"That's it. We're engaged!"

The family cheered and applauded. Mrs. Weasley sobbed happily as Bill patted Ron on the back. Mr. Weasley put his arm Hermione in a fatherly hug. "Glad to see you join the family, Hermione." He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "You're one of the few girlfriends Molly never threatened to hex."

"You know what's funny?" Mrs. Weasley said, drying her eyes. "I did make elderberry and cabbage slaw for the kids once. But I'm sure Ron didn't remember; he was three and I never made it again."

"Nope, I don't remember it," Ron said, shaking his head.

"I do." Percy scowled, suddenly remembering the taste. "I think YOU threw a spoonful of it down my trousers," he said, pointing to Charlie.

"Don't look at me! That was Bill!"

"You're both wrong. I dropped some down your shirt, and you told Mum it stained your trousers so she could buy you new ones that actually fit you properly."

"That's not how I remember it."

"Of course not! You always fib the details!"

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do..."

George looked at Hermione and shrugged. Apparently he didn't remember the elderberry and cabbage slaw fiasco either. "Just think, Hermione. You'll be going from zero brothers to four in one day. You sure you can handle all of us?"

Hermione looked at Ginny and Ron for assistance. They both bad their heads down and their hands clamped over their ears, a position they apparently had to assume often during dinner-table arguments.

"_Omnia Complecti!_" Mrs. Weasley shouted.

"OWW!" The three eldest brothers were forcefully thrown together in a tight hug.

"If you're going to argue like children, then you'll be punished like children!"

"And you're going to stay there until you say you love each other!" Mr. Weasley said, echoing the old punishment he and his wife used countless times on their kids.

"But what if I can't—erf—breathe?" Percy said, unfortunately stuck between his two larger brothers.

"Aw, c'mon, Perce, where's your sense of togetherness?" George said, pulling out his wand and waving it in a huge circle.

Hermione had no idea what happened, but suddenly she, Ron and Ginny were thrown on top of the three eldest brothers, knocking them to the floor. "GROUP HUG!" George bellowed, flinging himself on top of the pile.

"The hell's the matter with you, George?"

"OW! Get your fat arse offa me!"

"Merlin, Charlie, you stink!"

"I still—can't—breathe—"

There was a loud CRACK and the seven young adults broke apart, falling lightly onto the dining room floor, heaving and gasping for air. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley let out exasperated sighs and collected the dishes.

"You okay, Percy?" Bill said, sitting his younger brother upright.

"I'll be fine. A fractured rib is nothing Audrey can't Heal."

"Do I really smell that bad?" Charlie said, leaning closer to Ginny.

"Like steaming dragon scat. Get away from me!"

"Sorry about that, love." Ron scooted closer to his fiancée.

"Don't be ashamed!" George said, squeezing his way between the two of them. "This is your family, Ronald. And soon, it will be Hermione's, too." He put his arm around his future sister-in-law. "So what say you, Hermione? Are you sure you want to join our huge, mad family?"

She smiled at him. "Of course I'm sure."

"YES! Another little sister to bother!" George put Hermione in a headlock and rubbed his fist in her hair.

Hermione wriggled out of his grip and pulled out her wand. "That's all right. That just means I'll have four brothers to practice my hexing on." She glanced at Ginny, who seemed to be attacking Charlie with some sort of soap-sud hex. "And one sister to help me out."


	3. Telling the Grangers

_October 22, 2000_

_9:00 p.m._

Mr. Granger opened the door. "Hermione! Ron! What brings you two here so late?"

Hermione gave her father a tired hug. "Hi, Dad. Sorry we couldn't come by sooner. We've had a really long day."

"Oh, do sit down!" Mrs. Granger said, ushering them in the door. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Yeah," Ron said, "Do you have some of that...er...that sweet and bubbly stuff?"

"Cola?"

"Yeah, cola! May I have some, please? We don't have that on, er...my side of things."

"Of course." Mrs. Granger smiled, charmed by Ron's cluelessness.

"So how have you two been?" Mr. Granger said. "Haven't seen either of you in a while."

"Busy, as usual. But today's been especially—oh, let me help you with that."

Ron was twisting the soda can Mrs. Granger had given him. "How do you open this damn thing?" Hermione flipped it right-side-up and pulled open the tab. "Oh! Well, that's odd."

Hermione playfully rolled her eyes. "Anyway, the two of us would like to share something with all of you. Is Hyacinth here?"

"She certainly is! She'll be delighted to see you." Her mother called up the stairs. "Hyacinth! Hermione's here. Come say hello!"

There was an unmistakable sound of a bedroom door being thrown open, then quick feet pummeling down the stairs. "Miah!" Hyacinth shouted, throwing her arms around her elder sister.

"Cindy!" Hermione said, breaking apart to get a better look at her. "When did this happen?" she asked, pointing to a pink streak in Hyacinth's choppy, chin-length black hair.

"Last week. Mum wouldn't let me get the navel piercing, so I got this!"

"A navel piercing?" Ron winced. "Why would you ever do that?"

"We don't know, either," Mr. Granger responded. Although his daughters had the same face and body type, their personalities could not be any more different.

"Anyway, Ron and I are here because we have a special announcement for everyone."

"You're pregnant," Hyacinth guessed.

"Hyacinth!" Mrs. Granger said, half-laughing, half-astonished. "She's not even married yet!"

"Actually, Mum, I will be soon. Ron and I are engaged."

Mrs. Granger gasped. "Congratulations, sweetheart! To both of you! Oh, this is wonderful news!" She gave her daughter a massive hug.

Mr. Granger shook Ron's hand. "Congratulations, Ron. You're a fine young man; I know you'll take good care of my daughter."

"Miah, I thought we had a deal!" Hyacinth said, playfully backhanding her sister. "We were supposed to marry the Bartlett boys on Clover Street!"

"That was when I was nine and you were five. Isn't it time to move on?" Hermione joked.

"Chuck's still pretty cute." Hyacinth took her sister's hand and gasped. "What a gorgeous ring! Oh, I love all these little rubies!"

"Thank you. They're Gryffindor colors!"

Mr. Granger took Hermione's hand and held it into the light. "Beautiful, sweetie. And good pick, Ron. That's a real traffic-stopper!"

"Thanks," Ron said, although the term was a bit foreign to him. "It was my great-grandmum's. Goblin-made."

Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow. "Goblins make jewelry on your side of things?"

"Yeah, and relics too, like the Sword of Gryffindor. The most valuable artifacts in the Wizarding world are goblin-made."

"So it's their little goblin hands you need to work the metal?" Mrs. Granger inferred.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Hermione said, somewhat perturbed.

"Yeah, don't get her started on goblin and elf rights." Ron laughed and nudged his fiancée.

"Nonetheless, we're proud to welcome you to the family, Ron." Mr. Granger clapped him on the back. "Speaking of family, Mrs. Granger and I have never met yours."

"They're a bunch of nutters," Ron joked. "Got one sister and—er—four brothers. Parents, too. Two of 'em."

Mr. Granger chuckled. "Nutters or not, our daughter's about to marry into your family. I think it's only fair for us, as her parents, to get acquainted with them. If you don't mind, we'd like to invite your parents over for dinner in a few weeks."

"Sounds brilliant! What day?"

"Wait, Tim, are you sure?" Mrs. Granger cut in. "Maybe his parents aren't comfortable traveling in the non-magical realm."

"They don't mind; wizards and witches travel through the Muggle world all the time without anyone noticing. Besides, my dad is really into the Muggle lifestyle. He thinks it's incredibly fascinating."

"Fascinating? What's so fascinating about us?" Mr. Granger said. "You wizards are the ones with the magic spells and the wands and potions and whatnot. All we've got here are rows upon rows of ceramic teeth."

"And this television," Ron said, motioning to it. "You can watch the news _as it's happening_ all over the world! My brother George would be thrilled if he could put adverts for his joke shop that you could see _and_ hear on a moving screen. You've got those airplanes that can take you all across the sky without getting wicked windburn like I would on a broom. And Hermione told me that you've got some old dental equipment here. I bet my dad would love to see how all that works."

"Really?" Hyacinth said. "Mum and Dad can show your parents their old drills and they won't run screaming home?"

"We haven't frightened _that_ many people," Mr. Granger said. "Besides, the mad dentist was a huge hit at last year's neighborhood Halloween party!"

"Not when you threatened to strangle little Lizzie with floss when she took a handful of candy."

Hermione laughed, somewhat glad she missed it in favor of the Hog's Head Halloween Bash. "So, would everyone be comfortable with Ron's parents coming over in a few weeks?"

"If it's fine with your mother, it's fine with me."

"Sure, we'll have them over." Mrs. Granger said. "Besides, I don't like traveling in the magical realm. That wall in front of Platform 9 3/4 always made me nervous; it looks so real. Is it a hologram?"

"No, Mum, it's a real wall. Only those who are Hogwarts students or family of Hogwarts students can pass through it."

"But how—"

"Carol, she's explained these things to us a hundred times. It's magic. You just have to believe her."

Mrs. Granger looked pensive and a bit uncomfortable. "Will there be magic at your wedding?"

"Some, probably," Ron said. "In wizards' weddings, the officiating wizard conjures a flock of doves at the end of the vows. People usually Apparate to the ceremony—just appear out of thin air. Lanterns float around everywhere, and elves usually cook for everyone. They just snap their fingers and dinner is served!"

"It'll be fine, Mum. Elves are excellent cooks," Hermione said off her mother's worried glance. "I'm sure Ron's mother can explain wizards' weddings further when she comes over."

Mrs. Granger gave a comprehensive nod. "Travel, school, and even your weddings are different. I never realized there was so much to learn about the magical world."

Ron placed an arm around Hermione's shoulders and held her tight. "Which is exactly why your daughter was top of our class."


	4. Sister Talk

_November 3, 2000_

_6:00 p.m._

Although Hermione was positively stuffed with pork roast and winter squash, she was happy to see that Ron's parents were getting along well with her own. Her mother had interested Mrs. Weasley in a sitcom on television ("Who's doing all that laughing? And why are they laughing at_ everything?_"). Her father had whisked Ron and Mr. Weasley upstairs to see his home office. Despite the occasional whirr of a dental drill, it sounded like they were having a good time. Hermione ended up in her sister's room, which was wallpapered with posters of Muggle rock groups such as Third Eye Blind, Korn, Green Day, and others that Hermione had never heard of before.

"Ron was telling me that your lot's posters move," Hyacinth said, noticing how her sister was staring at them.

"Yes, and so do our photographs. It's weird coming home and seeing family photos on the wall that don't wave back."

Hyacinth scoffed. "I can't imagine."

"Honestly, it's a huge adjustment coming back to the Muggle world. One time I forgot what to say when answering the telephone."

She raised an eyebrow. "How do you forget to say 'hello?'"

"When you have owls as your only form of communication, you forget how things work in the Muggle world!" Hermione said bitterly. "Mum yelled at me one summer because I didn't know how to change a light bulb. Dad thought it was bloody hilarious when I couldn't figure out how to send an e-mail to Aunt Jennie. Honestly, these things make me glad I'm marrying a wizard. Electronics make me feel so dumb. I'm not going to miss masquerading as a Muggle one bit."

Hyacinth bit her lip. "So you're officially gonna be one of them?"

"What do you mean? I've always been a witch. You know that."

She sighed. "I dunno. I always thought this whole magic thing was just a cool talent you had, and that once you were done with school, things would go back to normal. I thought that after you left Hogwarts, you'd come back here, get your dentistry license, and marry a...er..."

"A Muggle?"

"Muggle, right. A not-magic person. Maybe not one of the Bartlett boys, but someone that doesn't live on the other side of the world, if you get my drift. It was hard enough when you started Hogwarts and we only saw you during Christmas break and summer break. Now you're going to be on the other side full-time, settling down and starting a family of your own."

Hermione laughed. "Please. Ron and I don't want children right away. Ron's enough of a child as it is. Besides, I'm still going to visit for holidays and birthdays. And so will Ron; he knows how important family is."

"But still, you're going to be doing all kinds of magic we'll never know about and working at a job that we will never understand. We're not going to see you much at all anymore. I know it's your decision and you would have decided a long time ago if you wanted to live on the non-magical side of things. Just...promise you won't forget us?"

"Of course I won't forget about you. Why do you think I sent you lot to Australia three years ago?"

"So Mum could finally see the place she's been dying to visit?"

"That, and to keep you out of harm's way." Hermione paused, trying to think of the safest way to describe the war. "The Wizarding World was falling to pieces, and people like me—Muggle-born witches and wizards—were especially targeted. We were being tracked, tortured, and sometimes executed. It could have been easy just to save my own back and forget about my Muggle relatives during that time, but I didn't. Before I set out on my journey to save my race, I saved my family first. And after all that, I don't know why you'd think I'd ever forget you."

A long silence fell between the two sisters. Hyacinth couldn't think of a proper response and Hermione had nothing left to say. No matter how much Hermione skirted around the war with her family and especially her friends who fought with her, discussing it still left a sinkhole inside her. Her mind was blank except for the billowing feeling of fear, anxiousness, and despair that returned every time she was reminded of the war. The sting in her lungs from outrunning the Snatchers. The weight of the Horcrux around her neck—

"So," Hermione said, desparately forcing herself out of the silence, "if you're still not too leery about me marrying a wizard, would you still like to be one of my bridesmaids?"

"Of course," Hyacinth said, smiling. "As long as you don't make me wear a ruffly, sick-green dress like in cousin Connie's wedding."

"Oh, that was awful! That thing itched like it was nobody's business. Didn't you burn it after the reception?"

"And waste good fabric? No way." Hyacinth crossed to her closet and pulled out a tea-length navy dress. "You can do a lot with a bit of dye and a sharp pair of scissors."

Hermione fingered the hem. "This is incredible!"

"Thanks! Much better than the original, if nothing else. If you want, I can turn those dowdy school robes of yours into a chic little black dress!" Hyacinth tempted.

"Never! There's memories attached to those!"

"And about a liter of perfume you probably used to seduce Ron." Hermione shot her a stern look. "What? You know I'm right."

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><p>"Your mother is very charming, Hermione." Mrs. Weasley said as they walked down the Grangers' driveway.<p>

"And your father is a very intriguing man." Mr. Weasley pulled an electric dentist's toothbrush out of his coat pocket. "Quite generous, too."

Hermione inspected the toothbrush. "Why did he give you that? I mean, it's an old model he doesn't use anymore, but why?"

Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Apparently I demonstrated good behavior when he was cleaning my teeth."

"He _cleaned your teeth?_" Hermione clung to her hair, mortified.

"Mine, too!" Ron flashed a wide grin. "It's brilliant; I can't stop licking my teeth."

"It was nice," Mr. Weasley said. "He used bubblegum-flavored toothpaste!"

"Bubblegum?" Mrs. Weasley cracked. "How old are you, five?"

"Oh, come on, Mollywobbles. You would have enjoyed it, too. Honestly, you probably needed it more than we did judging by all those sweets you eat."

"I don't eat that many sweets!"

"Right, you just used a Disillusionment Charm on that pound of licorice I bought yesterday."

"Ignore them," Ron said, pulling Hermione aside as his parents continued to squabble. He leaned closer to her and tapped his mouth. Hermione kissed him, drawing in the clean bubblegum flavor that lingered on his lips.

She pulled back, tantalized. "Cor, now I see why you enjoy snogging me so much."

Ron smiled. "I knew you'd like it. That's why I pinched these before I left." He pulled a few bubblegum toothpaste pots from his pants pocket.

"RONALD! Have you gone mad, stealing from my father?"

"He had loads of 'em! Besides, it tasted _so good!_"

Hermione sighed, but was laughing. "To think while you were nicking bubblegum toothpaste, I was telling Hyacinth that you were enough of a child for us to want kids for a long time."

"How is she, anyway? She seemed awfully quiet at dinner."

"She was just a little wary about me marrying a wizard, which I suppose is understandable. Not that she dislikes you, just—"

"I get it. She's uncomfortable with her elder sister marrying into a way of life she'll never really know. You'd be better off marrying a Muggle who lives in India."

"Yeah," Hermione said with a sigh of understanding. They were now walking through the empty, grassy field where their Portkey back to Hogsmeade lay. "I think she's okay, though—she agreed to be one of my bridesmaids."

"That's great!" Ron said. "I'm sure she'll like Ginny and Luna and all the rest when she meets them all."

Hermione bit her lip as she grabbed the discarded hat that lay in the grass. _Damn. I forgot all about that._


	5. Break out the Baby Photos!

**A/N: This is probably my favorite chapter so far. It was fun writing Ron being embarrassed by his mother =P Also, this chapter kinda-sorta references my other fic "Her Six Brothers"...so check it out if you like! [/plug]  
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**Thank you to everyone who has alerted/favorited this story so far! I appreciate your support, but a review in addition to a favorite or alert would make my day =)  
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**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>November 12, 2000<em>

_6:00 p.m._

Ron and Hermione Apparated to the Burrow following an invitation from Mrs. Weasley saying she had a surprise for the two of them. "I wonder what it could be?" Hermione said as they walked up the snowy pathway.

"Dunno. Maybe Mum will give you that tiara she loaned Fleur for her wedding."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Hermione was sure that tiara had some beautification Charm on it. Normally, she felt troll-like in Fleur's presence, but when Fleur wore that tiara on her wedding day, Hermione felt that some of Fleur's flawless beauty fell upon her. Hermione knew she was nowhere nearly as beautiful as Fleur, but she hoped the Charm would work just as well on her special day.

Mrs. Weasley opened the door before Ron had a chance to knock. "Hello, dears! Come on inside. Awfully freezing out there, isn't it?" she said, ushering them in quickly. She took both Ron and Hermione's snow-covered coats and, with a flick of her wand, suspended them over the fireplace. "Dinner will be up at 6:30. Chicken pot pie sound good?"

"Sounds amazing," Ron said.

"Great! Now, for your surprise. Come with me." She led them to the base of the spiral staircase, opened up a crawlspace-sized door, and motioned for them to go inside. "It's here in the study."

Hermione felt somewhat embarrassed for the Weasleys knowing that their study was inside a crawlspace. Even the little study nook in her flat was bigger; one could at least _stand_ in it. She knew the Weasleys quite poor, but how could they get any proper studying done in here?

After crawling about ten feet, Hermione realized how wrong she was. The crawlspace had led to a full-sized, oak-paneled room lined with antique relics and various old books. A bronze coffee table sat between two burgundy, leather loveseats over a green woven rug.

"This is beautiful!" Hermione said, curiously fingering the spine of an old dictionary. "I had no idea this was here!"

"Not many do. It's where Arthur and I keep all the heirlooms we've inherited over the years." She sighed. "Sometimes, when times were really hard—I'm talking about when all the kids were young—I would come in here after I put Ginny to sleep. I'd just sit here and imagine that everything was peaceful again, that weren't poor as mice, and that my brothers were still here to watch my children grow up."

"I can understand why," Hermione said. She noticed a photo on the shelf of two identical men holding a very young Bill and Charlie.

"Now, I only come in here when I want to remember." Mrs. Weasley indicated to a shelf that held six photo albums, titled _Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron,_ and _Ginny._ "You'll find that when your children have grown, sometimes you want to look back and remember how little they used to be. But now that Ron is to be married, it's time to pass his album along to him. That's why Bill's is gone, you see."

Hermione nodded, but tried to avert her eyes from the shelf. Fred's album seemed to be staring her in the face. She bit her lip knowing that it would never leave the study.

Mrs. Weasley pulled Ron's album from the shelf and dusted it off with her sleeve. "Never in a million years did I think my sixth would be the second to get married. Care to look at little Ronnie?"

"What the...MUM!" Ron had gotten a look at the album cover, which featured a two-year-old version of himself waving cheerfully at the camera.

"Aww!" Hermione sighed. "Look at how cute you were!" She teasingly pinched his cheek, which was quickly turning bright red.

"Can we just get this overwith, please?" Ron sickly mumbled.

Mrs. Weasley giggled, knowing that was the response she'd get from her son. "Of course. Have a seat."

The two of them sat on the old leather sofa as Mrs. Weasley sat across from them in an armchair. She set the album on a coffee table and opened it to the first page. "Ronald Bilius" drew itself onto the parchment in looping black script. A tiny, beet-red bundle lay on Mrs. Weasley's chest. "He was only thirty minutes old here. Tough little stinker, he was. Spent hours and hours in labor with him."

Hermione grabbed Ron's wrist. "Aww, Ron! You're so cute and tiny!"

"Heh, I _was_ kinda cute." He watched as his mother flipped through photos of his baby self being tickled by Charlie, levitating a bit in his crib, and holding newborn Ginny's hand as Mrs. Weasley cradled them both. His smug expression fell when she reached the toddler section.

Hermione gasped and was starting to cut off the circulation in Ron's hand. "Oh, how adorable!"

Judging by his pallid expression, Ron didn't see what was so adorable about his two-year-old self running through the house covered in toilet tissue, being soaked with green goop after one of Fred and George's failed "experiments," or chewing on the raggedy ear of a stuffed bunny rabbit.

"Oh, yes, little Ronnie had a habit of chewing on things. His favorite was this stuffed bunny named Flopsy."

"Awwwww!" Hermione cooed. Her eyes welled up from sheer cute overload.

"Mum," Ron groaned, "this is torture."

The next picture was of Percy in white robes. "Ooo, you'll get a kick out of this one—Halloween 1985. Percy's dressed as a Healer, like he was for three years straight." The photo panned over to Fred and George in identical red jumpsuits and blue candy floss hair. "Fred and George decided they wanted to go as characters from this weird Muggle book Arthur read to them. I can't for the life of me remember what—"

"Dr. Seuss," Hermione said, instantly recognizing it. "They're Thing 1 and Thing 2."

Mrs. Weasley gasped. "That's it! Thank you, dear! Thing 1 and Thing 2. Describes them to a tee, anyway." The photo now revealed Ginny dressed a brown felt jumpsuit and waving a hoofed hand at the camera. "Ginny, here, went through a phase where she loved farm animals. I told her she could pick out Ron's costume that year because he was being punished for flushing her doll down the loo. So here's Ginny the horse—" the camera panned to a scowling, unrecognizably fluffy Ron. "And Ronnie the sheep!"

"MUM!" Ron slammed the album shut. "Don't you think you've had enough fun humiliating me in one go?"

"Oh, come off it, Ron." Hermione laughed and playfully slapping his knee. "This is fantastic!"

"Is there much more left? At this rate, we'll be here all night."

"Well, I suppose the two of you can look at it together when you get back to your flat." Mrs. Weasley handed the album to Hermione. "I know you'll enjoy this. It's fun to see what your future husband was like as a little boy."

"Oh yeah, real fun," Ron grumbled.

"Oh, stop it. I'm sure Hermione's parents have loads of photos from when she was a little girl."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And an entire set of baby teeth."

"Baby teeth?" Mrs. Weasley said, utterly appalled. "What in Godric's name for?"

"For keepsake purposes, I suppose. And for DNA samples if I ever got kidnapped."

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Try as I might, I don't think I will ever understand Muggles."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you at least try."

* * *

><p>Ron stepped out of the bathroom and groaned. "Are you done with that <em>yet?<em>"

"Nope." Hermione was lounging in bed, smirking at the photos that Mrs. Weasley had glossed over. "Never."

"Come on, I can't be _that_ interesting." He slid under the covers and scooted next to his fiancée.

"I beg to differ." She pointed to a photo of a five-year-old Ron sleep-eating from a tin of sweets. "I had no idea how long you've been sleepwalking to the kitchen until now!"

Ron gamely laughed. "I can't help that I get hungry in the middle of the night!"

"_Every_ night, no matter how much you eat before bed?"

Ron defensively held up his hands as Hermione turned the page. "This is a really nice photo of everyone," she said, pointing to it.

"I remember that. Christmas 1985. One of the few Christmases where no one had the flu. Dad was so excited that year because he finally got a Christmas photo of the whole family where no one was bundled up sick in a corner."

"Everyone looks so happy," Hermione mused.

"We are. That was probably my favorite Christmas." Ron rested his head on Hermione's shoulder as they watched the photo re-live that day. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were lounging on the couch with cups of cocoa, seemingly relieved that the hassle of Christmas was all over. Bill beamed as he glided around the house on his Comet Two Sixty. Charlie was doing a pantomime about flatulent cows with Ginny's barnyard playset as she squealed with laughter. Fred and George see-sawed wildly in the middle of the room.

"The indoor teeter-totter. Yeah, that lasted about a week. Fred launched George straight into the ceiling." Ron smiled, pointing at his place in the photograph. He was jumping up and down with excitement as a toy helicopter slowly levitated, controlled by the radio device that Percy was holding. "Dad got me that from the Muggle toy shop. I nearly forgot about that thing. It was so cool!"

"Do you still have it?"

"No. Mum took it away a week later because she said it was too dangerous. Percy took apart the controller thing and shocked himself."

"Serves him right."

"Bloody hilarious, looking back on it. Charlie convinced him he was turning into Frankenstein."

"You kids knew about Frankenstein?" Hermione never really knew how much knowledge Ron had of Muggle culture, despite his father being a fanatic. She always figured it was better to ask a dumb-sounding question than to assume.

"Yeah. Dad used to take his Charmed projector and watch Muggle Halloween films with us every year. Anyway, Charlie painted Percy's face green while he was sleeping that night. I've never heard Percy scream that loud."

Hermione laughed. "Never a dull moment in your house, is there?"

"Nope. Never."

They stared at the 'Christmas '85' photo, absently observing the peaceful chaos that ruled the Weasley family living room. Neither asked to turn the page.


	6. Meeting the Muggle

**A/N: I upped the rating in this chapter for language (F-word, once) and dark themes. Yes, this chapter's a lot darker than any one prior...I definitely teared up writing some of Hyacinth's dialogue =/**

* * *

><p><em>December 1, 2000<em>

_3:53 p.m._

"Stop biting your nails!" Hermione said as she and Hyacinth left the Underground station.

"Okay, _Mum._" Hyacinth dejectedly shoved her hands in her coat pockets.

"Sorry. I don't mean to be short. I'm just as nervous as you are."

"Yeah, right. You're not the one meeting all your sister's magical friends—"

"Not so loud!" Hermione hissed.

"Okay, _special_ friends. I'm sure they all think I'm some sort of freak."

"Oh, stop that. All of the girls really excited to meet you!"

"How many of them are there again?"

"Four. Ginny's my maid of honor; everyone likes her. Lavender and Parvati are rather girlish, but sweet. And I'm sure you and Luna will get along great."

"Isn't Luna the weird one?"

"When did I ever say that?"

"I dunno. Who else could 'Loony' have been in your letters from school?"

Hermione sighed, cornered. "That was back before I really knew her. I think her Spectrespecs—these wild 3D glasses she wore everywhere—frightened me a bit. Honestly, I think you two will really like each other. If Aunt Jennie fainted when you dyed your hair, I'd love to see what happens when Luna starts talking to her about Nargles at the wedding."

Hyacinth held up her hand. "Wait. Question. How is this going to work with our family coming to...y'know...the 'other side' to see you get married? Won't they notice some things are a little _unusual_ at your wedding? And knowing Aunt Jennie, she'll tell everyone this side of London."

"It'll be fine. I've already made up some Seal-It Solution to use on everyone's invitation return envelopes. When they lick it, not only will they seal the envelope, they will seal themselves. They won't even be compelled to tell any other Muggle about the wedding."

Hyacinth looked impressed. "Can I nick some to use on blabbermouth Beth? All my friends will thank me."

"You can't. I already put some in your morning tea."

"I hate you."

"Liar."

They had reached the cozy Jazminu's Tea Room; Hermione pushed open the door and was greeted with a hot blast of strong herbs. "Ah, there they are." She spotted Ginny stirring milk into a steaming cup of tea and Lavender adjusting a thick pink scarf. Luna was re-arranging the vase of plastic flowers on the table.

"Hi, everyone! Glad to see you all found this place."

"It was no big deal," Ginny said, blowing into her tea. "The Underground's pretty easy to navigate."

"Unless you're color-blind," Luna pointed out, keeping her eyes on the plastic daffodils.

"True." Hermione motioned to Hyacinth. "I'd like you all to meet my sister, Hyacinth. Hyacinth, this is Lavender, Ginny, and Luna."

"Hello, Hyacinth!" Lavender said, extending a hand. "Love your hair. So edgy!"

"Thanks," Hyacinth said, uneasily fiddling with the pink streak. "I might dye it green next week."

"Go for it! Green would look chic for Christmas." Lavender turned to Hermione and motioned to the massive stack of magazines on the table. "I got you a little gift. A year's subscription to _Enchanted Bride_, plus twelve months of back issues."

"Oh, Lavender, you didn't have to!" Hermione said, flipping through one.

"It was nothing—literally! Only paid one Galleon, two Sickles for everything. Pulled some strings at Flourish & Blotts."

"Meaning, you snogged the owner?" Ginny cracked.

Lavender smirked. "I did what I had to."

Hermione smiled. "So I take it you're not upset that I'm marrying your ex?"

"I wouldn't have agreed to be a bridesmaid if I was. Besides, why should I be upset? If I got angry every time one of my friends got serious with one of my old flings, I'd have no friends at all. Life's too short to hold grudges; am I right?"

"Hear, hear," Ginny said, raising a toast.

As Hermione ordered Earl Grey for two, Hyacinth had become fascinated with Luna's radish earrings. "These are so cool; where did you get them?"

"I made them. They're rot-proof dwarf radishes. I can make you a pair if you like."

"You would do that for me?"

"Oh, yes. I find jewelry-making a pleasant way to pass the time. Keeps your hands from forming Sloth Cysts as you age."

Hyacinth pulled a crumpled bill out of her pocket. "Is five quid enough?"

"That won't be necessary. You'll find that radish earrings pay for themselves when Gnadflies stop buzzing around your ears."

"Getting a head start on planning?" Ginny said, motioning to the light blue notebook Hermione pulled out of her purse.

"Sort of. My mum gave this to write down all my wedding plans. There's checklists for the wedding party, catering, and even the music! She said it was a lifesaver when she married my dad."

"As you can see, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Hyacinth placed a hand on her sister's shoulder as the other girls laughed.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome!"

"Anyway, I'm not making any solid plans right now, but I've brought you girls together today to collect any suggestions you may have for my wedding. Does anyone—"

"Hey, look who finally showed up!" Lavender interjected.

The click of a cane drew closer and Parvati's cheery voice was heard. "Hi, ladies! Sorry I'm late. Underground patrons can be quite shirty."

"Sorry, I should have warned you," Hermione said. "The Tube is a bit handicap-unfriendly."

"It wasn't so bad until that 'Mind the Gap' bit. I nearly fell on my face!"

"May've flattened your nose a little," Lavender joked.

"Oh, shut it." Parvati playfully hit Lavender with her cane and sat at the end of the table, her left leg sticking out irregularly. Hermione felt her face flush. Parvati had drawn a few shocked and pitied looks from the other tea room guests, and Hermione knew exactly why. Parvati's entire left leg had been cursed backwards during the Battle of Hogwarts, giving her a wobbly gait and a reversed foot that were visible despite the long denim skirt she was wearing. Hermione glanced at Hyacinth, who was staring uneasily into her tea.

"Erm, anyway," Hermione continued, "just give me your wedding suggestions and I'll write them down. I can't say I'll follow every single one of them, but I'll at least take them into consideration."

"Here's my suggestion," Ginny said. "Make sure Hagrid is seated at the _very_ back of the tent. One of Fleur's friends decided to take it out on _me_ because she couldn't see anything during the ceremony. It wasn't my fault she came in late and had to take the last seat available!"

"I'll definitely make a note of that," Hermione said, writing it down.

"Don't hire a polka band," Lavender offered. "Weirdest. Music. Ever."

"Or a folk band like cousin Connie did." Hyacinth made a sick face.

"If you're getting married at Ron's house," Luna added as Hermione furiously tried to catch up, "do let the gnomes come in to watch. Some people think they're hurtful and annoying, but they actually make pleasant wedding guests if you treat them well."

"Don't pick a dress color that will clash with your sister's hair." Hermione glared at Hyacinth. "I'm teasing, Miah. I can always dye it to match!"

"And on that note, please don't pick any shade of red," Ginny said. "Even though that's stating the obvious."

"Don't eat elderberries for breakfast unless you want to kiss your groom with purple teeth," Parvati advised.

"Peaches will bring you grace, though," Luna said.

"Seat Auntie Muriel at the end of a row," Ginny added. "You don't want her griping because someone accidentally elbowed her."

"Actually, it may be better to sit in a circle. When my—whew. Stuffy in here, isn't it?" Lavender unfurled her scarf and fanned herself with it. "Much better. Anyway, when my Aunt Ida got married..."

Hermione tried her hardest to pay attention to Lavender's seating arrangement idea, but was too focused on Hyacinth's horrified face. Lavender was wearing a low-cut shirt under that scarf, her deep, ghastly scars from Fenrir Greyback's attack entirely visible. Four claw marks ran down the length of her neck until they stopped suddenly in the middle of her chest. Four more identical marks crossed them diagonally, punctuated by four swollen dots where Greyback had gripped the side of her neck. Hyacinth averted her pallid face to her tea, looking as if she would be physically ill. Hermione absently wrote out the rest of the girls' suggestions as Hyacinth sat silently for the rest of the hour.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked as they entered the Underground station.

"I'm fine," she muttered.

"No, you're not. You wouldn't be giving me the silent treatment if you were fine."

"Oh, so am I not allowed to want peace and quiet now and then?" Hyacinth snapped. "Cor, I must be barking mad."

The two said nothing on the Tube ride back to their station and on the short car trip to the Granger house. As they stalked up the stairs, Hermione knew she wasn't going to go home until she got her sister to admit what was bothering her. She cast a quick Silencing Charm over Hyacinth's room and shut the door.

"You saw Lavender's neck, didn't you?"

Hyacinth stared out the window. "Yeah, so?"

"Well, are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly." Hyacinth shut her eyes tight. "I'm just trying to get that bloody image out of my head."

"It's gruesome, I know. It's a shame what happened to her; she's such a pretty girl."

"What _did_ happen to her? It looks like had a rendezvous with Edward Scissorhands."

Conflicted, Hermione averted her eyes to the floor. "She...er, it's a scar from the war."

Hyacinth scoffed. "Oh, that helps."

"You wouldn't understand, Cindy."

"What's so difficult for an ordinary Muggle like me to understand that your friend looks like she got clawed by some monster? Yeah, I may not know what's on your side. I may not be ever allowed to know. But I can certainly ascertain that Lavender was _attacked_ by something. And Parvati—Christ! I don't _want_ to know why her foot's on backwards. Nearly ruined my appetite. I wish you would have warned me before that some of your friends were disfigured!"

"We're not disfigured; we were _injured_ in the war!"

"What do you mean, 'we?'"

"We all were, in some way. Some people's scars are more visible than others."

"Oh, right. You're not messed up like Lavender and Parvati are."

"Actually, I am!" Hermione spat.

The anger between the two sisters suddenly dissipated. Hyacinth's voice was suddenly filled with shock and concern. "What?"

Hermione clutched her forearm, avoiding Hyacinth's eyes. "Remember how I told you that Muggle-born witches and wizards were being tortured?" Hyacinth nodded. "A-at one point, Harry, Ron and I were trapped in an enemy mansion. They tried to get me to confess to stealing an artifact." She rolled up her shirt sleeve.

Hyacinth looked like she would be sick. "Oh my _God._ Wha—what is 'Mudblood?' Did someone _do_ this to you?"

Hermione nodded, her lips taut. "She tried to, er, electrocute me with magic. I told the truth—we found the artifact in a lake. But that wasn't what she wanted to hear, so she took out her knife and—"

"Oh my God," Hyacinth whimpered, delicately tracing her fingers along Hermione's scar. "Miah, I'm so sorry. I had no idea—"

"It's okay." Hermione ran her hand through Hyacinth's hair and sat them both on the bed. "I knew I'd have to show you sometime."

"Who would do such a thing? To you, of all people? You've done nothing but good all your life; you're sweet, you're talented, smart—" Hyacinth inhaled deeply, her voice breaking. "You're my fucking big sister."

Hermione took her sobbing sister in her arms, letting one single tear course down her cheek. She lost count of how many times she told Hyacinth she was okay that night. It didn't matter; Hermione doubted that Hyacinth would ever believe her.


	7. A Cold Winter's Night

_December 12, 2000_

_7:35 p.m._

Hermione took a huge gulp of her butterbeer as soon as the Hog's Head barman handed it to her—anything to calm this scratchy throat she'd had these past three days. She swore as she clutched her scalded mouth.

"You're a disaster, aren't you?" Ginny said, blowing delicately into her pint of butterbeer. "You've got a sore throat, the Wizengamot is being stubborn over the new Elf Offspring clause you're trying to pass, your sister's mad at you, and now you've burnt your mouth raw on butterbeer."

"Everything in a nutshell," Hermione said, fanning herself with a napkin. "Except Hyacinth's not really mad at me, she's just..."

"Still a little shaken up?"

"Yeah," Hermione said darkly. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I should have just seen her back to the house, then Apparated to mine and Ron's flat. Now she's being all quiet and shirty—Mum wrote me yesterday asking if I 'jinxed her or something' at tea last week."

"You did the right thing, Hermione. If you never would have said anything to Hyacinth, she might be even more freaked out wondering what's wrong with Parvati and Lavender."

"But Ginny, I showed her—" she flung up her left forearm. "This! That's what did it in for her. For both of us, really. God, I feel so guilty," she said, her head falling into her hand.

"Hermione," Ginny said, placing a hand on her other arm, "relax. You're getting all worked up over something you can't control. Just how we've all had to come to terms with what the war gave and took away from us, Hyacinth will eventually realize that this powerful, strong warrior is her one and only big sister."

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose."

"Besides, I'm sure she'll come around a bit soon. Luna said she sent Hyacinth those radish earrings she promised. She's really happy, Luna is. She said she's only dreamed of being friends with a Muggle, and in that dream she was being chased by a flock of Blibbering Humdingers."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled. "At this point, I think Luna would be the only person who could get my sister to calm down a bit. I just wish I could be with her more."

"You've been in the Wizarding world for ten years now—surely you're used to spending time apart?"

"Yes, but Christmas is coming. That time of year where Hyacinth and I race down the slopes in Norway, stay up all night talking in the ski lodge, and actually get to be _sisters_ for a few weeks. I won't be there to spend time with her this year."

"Right, but this year you'll be spending time with _us!_" Ginny said. "Admit it, you're excited."

Hermione laughed bashfully. "I am. Ron's told me all about Christmas at the Burrow. He said that your mum's sausage hors d'oeuvres and your dad's homemade eggnog are to die for."

Ginny nodded. "Definitely true. It's easy to gain a stone off those things. Did Ron mention anything else?"

"Er, that he wants to try his hand at carving the ham this year, but that's all."

"Of course." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Ron's priorities start and stop at mealtime."

Hermione laughed knowingly. "What else should I know about Christmas at the Burrow? Do you all sing carols or anything like that?"

Ginny shuddered. "Merlin, no. Weasleys are _not_ singers. Seriously, don't bother asking unless you cherish your sense of hearing."

"But you've got to have some sort of music." Hermione couldn't imagine Christmas without carolers from the local church or her mum's Trans-Siberian Orchestra CDs.

"We do. Mum usually tunes the wireless to Celestina Warbeck, and last year Percy brought over his piano to play some carols for us. I still can't quite figure out how he Flooed it in." Ginny smiled wistfully. "And about five years ago, Fred tried to play the icicles."

"The_ icicles_?"

"Took two spoons and tried to tap out 'Jingle Bells' like it was a xylophone. About pissed myself laughing when he got ice down his jumper."

Hermione snorted on her sip of butterbeer. "How did that happen?"

Ginny shrugged, then pantomimed Fred waving his arms and arching his back against the ice. "AHH! COLD! Frozen ginger alert! Oh shit, now it's in my bum! HELP!"

Hermione's laughter rang throughout the pub. "'H-help?' H-he really expected you lot to pick ice out of his bum?"

"Nah, but he did find a shred of common sense and casted a Heating Charm on himself. Then George asked him if he needed a nappy for his 'little accident.'" Hermione clutched her stomach in laughter. "See, I told you you'd cheer you up!"

Hermione sighed, suddenly remembering why she was depressed in the first place. "Yeah."

"You're going to have a fantastic holiday with us, I promise."

"It'll be nice. It's the first Christmas Ron and I have spent together!"

"Exactly. And if Hyacinth needs you, I'm sure she'll owl you like she always has. And if she doesn't, then she'll probably just owl you saying 'Merry Christmas.'"

"I know," Hermione said, tossing back the last of her butterbeer. "I know she will."


End file.
